


Afterwards

by soundofthesurf



Series: Five Times Robbie Spent The Night Alone On Tour And One Night He Didn't [2]
Category: Take That
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 11:58:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/466022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundofthesurf/pseuds/soundofthesurf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason is about to find out what happens when you teach Robbie Fucking Williams seduction - and you do it too well...</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Rob sees the fear of surrendering too easily, the insecurity, and the murderous anxiety of losing control in Jason’s eyes, for the first time in all those years. There were moments recently, in the reconciling, where they were close to this, but whenever it got decisive, one of them was wearing shades.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterwards

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to Doctor Love, which was written for the Progress-tour-ficathon, with the prompt "Five Times Robbie Spent The Night Alone On Tour And One Night He Didn't". A few kind people have somewhat pointed out that I didn't completely fill the prompt and so here's what happened in that one night Robbie didn't spend alone.
> 
> This story was kindly and expertly beta-ed by the wonderful przed. Any remaining mistakes are my fault entirely. :)

Afterwards

 

“Afterwards?” Jason hates the croaky sound his voice produces when he’s nervous.  
“Afterwards.” Rob’s voice is calm and confident, but deeper than usual, sending a shiver down Jason’s spine, worryingly so.

“Why don’t you close the door?” Rob asks innocently. “Afraid of the monster you created?”

Jason frowns, but closes the door, not least because it gives him a chance to hide from Rob’s glaring eyes. All of a sudden he feels vulnerable and exposed and he could smack himself for not wearing anything but tracksuit bottoms. Was he really thinking that’d be the right outfit for listening to Rob’s story of success? He’s holding on to the door knob, definitely longer than necessary. The very same door knob a nervous Rob held a little bit too long yesterday when he was hoping to be held back, but Jason’s throat was too dry to speak and say something to make him stay. Jason’s sure there must’ve been a shift in the space-time continuum, something that completely changed the chemistry between them, because why is he nervous now and Rob isn’t? And how come the very same outfit that made him feel superior and in charge last night has the completely reverse effect tonight? Something has happened in the depths of the universe, that’s for sure. Or maybe it’s Om’s fault. That thing has some sort of power, clearly. Jason feels it every night on stage; it’s surely more than just a stage prop. This way or another, there are outside forces involved. Nothing to do with anything Jason feels he needs, or wants, or fucking _craves_ for. Nothing to do with what Rob feels, needs, wants, or fucking thinks he _deserves_ now. 

“You know, Jay, you can stay there and stare at the door forever, if that’s what you want, but I’ll still be here when you turn around.” Once more Jason asks himself when exactly that annoying little kid from Stoke turned into this annoying beast of a man. And why the hell he’d agreed to teach him seduction, him, who can seduce ten thousand by simply raising an eye brow or giving a wink? Seriously, he must’ve been completely out of his mind that day – then again, isn’t he always? He lets out a deep sigh.

“Very good, you’re still breathing.” Jason finally turns around, to a smugly grinning Rob, who doesn’t hesitate to take the chance and win another point in this game they’re playing. “See? I’m _listening_.” Robbie walks up to him, oh-so slowly, getting very close, invading his private space. Completely un-unintentionally, of course. Jason can’t really blame him, he’s had one hell of a teacher, after all.

Robbie gives him a very long, very deep look in the eyes, then slowly shakes his head. “If I was a doctor I think the irregularity of your breathing would worry me.”  
Jason would love to smack him in the face, hard, if only he could _move_. He hates when his body disobeys his brains. “Duck away! Move!” some part of his brain screams frantically at some other part of his brain, the part that would be in charge of telling his muscles how to move. The scream remains unheard, unnoticed. And so Jason stands and stares back, petrified, his heart pounding madly. Frozen, but alive.

Rob still smiles at him, mercilessly. “Let’s check if your heart’s okay, shall we?” And then Jason feels Rob’s hand on his chest, astoundingly warm and pleasantly gentle. Resting there quietly, right next to his erect left nipple, _just so_ avoiding it. Completely un-unintentionally, once more.  
Robbie is very seriously staring at his hand, listening, or pretending to do so. Then he raises his head to give Jason this guess-who-dares look, the one only Robbie can really pull without looking totally ridiculous. Rob lets his hand carefully wander down Jason’s bare chest, softly, teasing, slowly changing direction to the right, moving along his side and around him, coming to a rest on his lower back, gently pulling him into a kind of hug – not the kind of hug he pulls him into each night on stage, the one they both keep as brief as possible, so they don’t have to fear they can’t go on with the show afterwards. No, this is the kind of hug that promises so much more than is possible on stage that it makes Jason close his eyes and moan silently. All the while Rob is bringing more and more of their bodies into contact, causing hot, sparkling, intense, electric feelings, coming closer and closer, until his nose slowly rubs alongside Jason’s right cheek, until his mouth reaches his ear, all so he can whisper an unhelpful “I could help you, you know, Jay? Help you breathe. Help you relax.”

“Bastard” is all Jason can think. Over and over again. He doesn’t say it, though.

Rob turns his head, watching Jason’s profile with delight, that special cheeky smirk on his lips. Tilting his head slightly forward so he can rub his nose against Jason’s until he can see his eyelids flutter. “Oh, treacherous lashes”, Rob thinks, “you’re my friends”. This, he knows, is the downside of being so pretty, you can’t really hide behind it and it’ll betray you at first opportunity.

He can see the concentration on Jay’s face, how he’s trying to keep calm and steady his breathing. About time to increase the pressure. He may have been a little bit distracted throughout the lessons, but he did pay attention. His hand on Jason’s back wanders deeper, his fingers slipping underneath the waistband. A pang of excitement scorches through his body when he realizes Jason’s not wearing anything underneath. Not that he’d really expected him to… Rob’s hand moves slowly, exploring that pretty little arse playfully, making Jason jump slightly and moan loudly when he dips his middle finger in between his buttocks. Rob turns his head and uses his free hand to stroke Jason’s neck while whispering “I can help you, you only have to say you want it…” in his ear. “Just say you want me.”

Jason would love to say whatever it takes, whatever Rob wants him to say, but he just _can’t_. He can’t control his breathing, and he couldn’t speak if his life depended on it right now. His head feels hot, red stains on his cheeks the visible sign for that. His whole body is tense, while his arms hang loosely by his side, and he’s not even sure if he can still feel them, if they still belong to him. All he can feel is the fabric of Rob’s sweater against his bare skin, Rob’s left hand gripping his neck, firm, but gentle, and Rob’s right hand, making him feel so good it’s downright disgusting and will inevitably lead to him having a hard-on within the next few seconds. He wants this so much, so badly, his body revealing his needs so fucking blatantly, yes, but, _please, Rob, please don’t make me say it. Don’t make me beg for it._

With a slight feeling of horror Jason realizes that all the years of being wound up have left scars that are much deeper than he’d thought. That, even after all these years, and the giddy heights of poptastic fame, and the shitloads of money this _still_ hurts. And that it was only barely covered by the feeling of guilt about his role in sacking Rob, which he _knew_ was wrong, but Christ, they needed some peace, some rest in all that lunacy and hysteria, they really did. Someone needed to do something to protect it all, that’s what he’d thought back then. Now he knows he only wanted to protect himself and that what he did was wrong on so many levels that the thought of counting them alone is enough to make his head hurt. It still was the only thing he was able to do, the only thing he was able to think of, exhausted and mentally fucked-up as he was. There’s no benefit in beating himself up for it any longer, of course he should’ve been a better mate back then, a big brother, a better man. He should’ve seen that Rob was not the problem, but that Rob _had_ a problem.  
But whereas Jason’s still struggling with this, Rob’s understood it, maybe, if he’s honest, triggered it, more or less forced them to sack him, so that he could _breathe_ again. And Rob’s forgiven them, all of them, and Jason in particular. What he asks for here, tonight, is to be forgiven too. Because _they_ have, but Jason hasn’t. And Jason knows he should, but somehow can’t, not really, judging by the pain he still feels, the fear, the mistrust, the suspicion. That’s what Rob wants tonight, that’s what he came for, to prove he’s worth forgiving. Prove he’s trustworthy. Prove he’s worthy.

And that’s all okay, all okay, but Rob can’t make him beg, that’s just too much. Jason’s eyes flicker open. “No. No, no. I…can’t…” That darn croaky voice again. His voice, not always his best friend.

Rob doesn’t say a thing, but he looks him in the eye, and they stand like this for an endless little while. Rob sees the fear of surrendering too easily, the insecurity, and the murderous anxiety of losing control in Jason’s eyes, for the first time in all those years. There were moments recently, in the reconciling, where they were close to this, but whenever it got decisive, one of them was wearing shades.

Rob had always guessed these feelings were there, but Jason had never once let them show. And, God knows, Rob had hated him for that. If only _for once_ he’d given a small hint of his true feelings, instead of acting superior, being above it all, maybe he’d have stopped teasing him. Maybe they could’ve been the brothers he wanted them to be.

But that was then, and they’ve both grown, and Rob knows now that it hadn’t really all been their fault. They were young and compliant in their working-class inferiority they all covered so well with the bravado only born show-offs can muster. They’d only been puppets, played by their malicious master. But whereas Rob, at some point, had started doing anything to cut the strings, inexpertly, too young to know a better way than hurting himself and everyone around him, making himself _expendable_ , Jason had played along, scared of going back to being nothing if the strings ever got detached. Building a little, neat card-house of what he thought was total control of himself: health regime, exercise. _Mens sana in corpore sano._ Eating the most gross stuff, just because that was something Nigel couldn’t control. Rob sometimes would’ve loved to point out that fucking Nigel didn’t give a fucking shit what anybody stuffed into themselves as long as it didn’t make them fat. Christ, he didn’t mind Rob downing two bottles of vodka every night, why would he give a flying rat’s fart about Jason’s seeds, and the rye bread, and the fucking nuts? But even in his worst times Rob didn’t dare tell Jason this. This stuff was Jason's security blanket, and no matter how much Rob despised and hated and envied him at times, he still couldn’t take his security blanket from him. That’s how, in one rare moment of clarity, when he’d figured he’d never ever, under no circumstances, would ever be able to crack this one, cruel, devastating joke, the one that could destroy the last bit of existing ego Jason had left in his fucking healthy body, Rob knew just how much he loved him.

And how can you not love someone who tries to fight the demons that want to steal your soul with raw vegetables and herbal tea, while you trust booze and coke to do that job for you?

It’s just that the days are so much longer when you’re not high on something, and the nights are endless when you’re sober. Lots of time to think, and worry, and grow anxieties the size of Brazil, and learn not to trust anyone easily. Rob understands now. Jason can’t just give in here. If Rob wants to be forgiven and trusted, he needs to give a little bit more first. Carefully he unwinds from the uneven embrace and takes two steps back, never once breaking the eye contact. He takes off his jumper and carelessly tosses it on the floor. He gives Jason a few precious seconds to take in what’s happening. _Watch carefully, move slowly._ Rob’s learnt his lesson well. He slips off his flip-flops, then moves his hands to the waistband of his tracksuit bottoms, pushes his fingers inside. Makes long and proper eye contact. Then slowly takes the bottoms off, discarding them next to the jumper. Stands there, naked, exposed, chin up, chest out. He realizes, not for the first time, but more clearly this time, for obvious reasons, that these days he’s the physically stronger one. He’s the one with the strong arms and the mighty chest nowadays. It used to be the other way around, but all the weight Jason has lost over the years, Robbie has gained, first in fat, much to some people’s delight, then made the boring and dead-awful effort of turning it into muscle. Now he’s exposing himself, as if to say, “see, I _did_ listen when you told me to work harder.” 

And Jason sees. It’s not enough yet to give in to temptation, but Rob could swear there’s a small happy glimmer in his eyes. Jason swallows hard, he enjoys what he sees, muscles and skin and pure beauty and the miraculous world of ink Rob’s created. But still he’s nervous and edgy and fearing this is just a joke. One of Rob’s bad pranks that’ll end in giggles and laughter for everyone but Jason. Just because Rob’s naked now doesn’t mean an end to Jason’s fear of Ant and Dec jumping out from behind the curtains – Rob’s been naked in front of cameras on so many occasions, he sure doesn’t mind one more.

Robbie sees the flicker die down, but knowing it was there is enough for now. He’s bridged the distance between them once, he can do it again. And so he moves _carefully, slowly_ forward, invading Jason’s space once more, noticing that Jason doesn’t back down, doesn’t move, doesn’t look half as scared as before. This time he gingerly places his hands on Jason’s hips and lets his body heat do the rest. Jason’s more shocked than surprised about just how strong his desire to fall into Rob’s embrace is. Robbie pulls him closer, skin on skin now, and the moment Jason closes his eyes shut Rob moves that tiny little bit left to brush their lips together and kisses him, slowly, patiently, with no hurry, but with all he’s got. This time he’s not trying to do it _right_ , like just a couple of days before. This time it’s about expressing all the things he never got to say and feeling the taste of life and passion and herbal tea with honey on Jay’s lips.

Jason loses track of time, but he couldn’t possibly care less. He just doesn’t want this moment to end, this kiss, strangely arousing for a kiss without tongue. It’s a safe kiss, deep and steady and warm, far too full and _everywhere_ for thin lips like Rob’s, but reassuring enough for Jason to let down a few defences. And so Jason dares and opens the kiss, softly taking Rob’s upper lip between his lips. Rob hums a happy sigh, accepts the invitation, moves his tongue slowly into Jason’s mouth, moves and searches and finds and caresses Jason’s tongue tenderly. Not tenderly enough, it seems, because right there and then Rob feels Jason’s hard, and that’s enough to make him hard, too. As glorious as this feels, Rob’s erection bumping into Jason’s, still hidden in his favourite tracksuit bottoms, Rob breaks the moment. He withdraws from the kiss, much to Jason’s displeasure, but soothes him by slowly planting one kiss after another in a long line down Jason’s chin, and neck, and down his chest, only straying from that path to give both of Jason’s nipples a short but pleasurable lick. Then he kisses his way further down to his bellybutton, licking it gently, then carefully rubbing his nose in the unbelievable softness of the hair underneath Jay’s navel, before finally resting his forehead against the prominent bulge covered by the grey fabric. His hands still resting on Jason’s hips, he pauses there, seizing the momentum, listening to Jason’s unsteady breathing. There’s so much happiness inside him, and gratitude, for being able to hear it, appreciate the beauty of it, for being able to unleash something as beautiful as this, Rob can hardly prevent himself from howling with delight. He buries his face into the fabric, knowing the awfully painful pleasure he’s causing him by doing so. Jason moans and sighs and swallows, but doesn’t tell him to stop. And so Rob gets on his knees, and moves his hands into the tracksuit bottoms on either side of Jay’s hips, slowly, looking up to Jason, honest eyes open wide, searching for one last affirmation that it’s okay, that he’s allowed to do what he’s about to do. Jason hesitates for one more second, caught between desire and fear, longing and surrender, when he realizes Rob’s not moving anymore. Reluctantly he opens his eyes and looks down. What he sees takes his breath away – for the first time ever since he's known him, in all those years, Robbie Fucking Williams is asking for his permission before intruding on his privacy. And he’s kneeling before him, naked and humble, while doing so.

Later Robbie couldn’t say whether it was a “yesss” or just a simple hissing sound, but he takes it for permission anyway. He takes a deep breath, thrilled to an extent that sends a shiver through his whole body and makes him swallow hard. With trembling fingers he pulls down Jason’s tracksuit bottoms, stares blankly, open-mouthed, with difficulty suppressing a “oh, my God”-like porn line, instead hissing hotly into Jason’s groin. He leaves the bottoms around Jay’s ankles, composes himself, slowly gets up and moves around Jason, closing his arms around him, resting his head in his neck and his hands on his belly.

Of all possible ways of outcome, Jason wasn’t expecting _this_ movement. He feels Rob’s warmth nestling up to him from behind, his hands on his tummy. All of sudden the fear is back, he feels exposed and silly, his nakedness and hard-on on open display, his arms still uselessly hanging down, the tracksuit bottoms around his ankles hindering him to just jump and run without looking absolutely ridiculous. He eyes over to the bathroom door, almost expecting someone, Ant and Dec, Walliams, Kay, one to the usual suspects, to jump out of there with a silly grin on their faces and a camera-man in tow. He panics, tenses, slightly squirms in Rob’s tight embrace. _Please, good Lord, don’t let it be Moyles._ Maybe, if he’s lucky, it’ll only be Howard, Mark and Gary. _Oh, please, no..._

Rob senses his tension and the panic and he’s sorry, really sorry, but this is necessary, ultimately, part of the lesson in trust. He rubs his nose softly over Jason’s left cheek, then whispers a low “Relax, Jay…” in his ear. “Relax, baby…” His hands stroke Jason’s belly, in small circles, while he kisses the crook of his neck, slowly licks the soft skin behind his ears, gently rubs his nose over the delicate space between his shoulder blades. As if to say, “see, you can trust me, I listened to every word you said. Every single word.”

Jason’s shut his eyes so tightly it almost hurts. He hates that Rob’s able to keep him trapped between pure bliss and panic-stricken fear and at the same time loves him madly for this. He’d love to slap him, and then kiss him, just to slap him again. But then Rob kisses the crook of his neck so tenderly, and then licks the soft skin behind his ears oh-so slowly, and then rubs his nose over the delicate space between his shoulder blades oh-so fucking gently and every single one of Rob’s touches feels like an explosion of happiness somewhere underneath his skin, tickling, intense, overwhelming. Making his blood pound inside his veins. Causing little white flickering stars to appear on the inside of his eye-lids. If only he’d _touch_ him now, touch and stroke and caress his cock, properly, blissfully. But then again Jason’s scared he might explode if Rob did so. And suddenly that’s _all_ he’s afraid of and the ghosts of comedians jumping out of dark corners of the room vanish into thin air. This is about bliss and joy and excitement and feeling oh-so-good, it’s about him and Rob, and no one and nothing else. Happiness, trust, forgiveness. Love. 

Finally Jason is able to give in and lean back into the embrace, relax, tilt his head back, moaning softly, but freely. Rob smiles and kisses him on the cheek and knows it’s time for relief now. His own cock is uncomfortably in the way, aroused, pressing hard against Jason’s lower back, not that Jay seems to mind much. Rob moves his hands downwards, but stops way too soon for Jason’s liking. Jason whimpers, bucking his hips forward, uselessly, Rob’s hands are still out of reach. Robbie pulls him back closer, brings his lips close to his ear and whispers “Put your hands on my hands.”  
Jason frowns confusedly, “…what the fuck?”  
“Acceptance, Jay…” Robbie demands. “Remember?” (Oh, sweet revenge!)  
Something that remarkably sounds like “Bastard” silently passes Jason’s lips.  
Robbie chuckles, but his voice stays breathy, throaty. “Trust me, Jay, just place your hands on mine…”  
Jason would love to, he’s almost there, but his arms have been hanging loosely, unneeded and almost forgotten for so long and his brain is slightly dysfunctional, useless mush, so much so he’s struggling with the task given. It takes a lot of effort to concentrate enough to do what he’s told, but finally Robbie feels Jason’s hands on his hands, his long fingers intertwining with his fingers. Only now Rob takes the lead and moves their hands deeper down, slowly closing them around Jason’s cock, gripping tightly. Jason lets out a sigh so deep it makes his whole body shiver. Rob doesn’t start moving their hands, though, only lets them hold tight, until Jason slightly stirs, impatiently.  
“Now,” Rob whispers in his ear, his voice deep and hoarse, “show me how you like it.”

For a moment Jason allows himself to feel ridiculously proud of Rob, his model pupil, and yes, maybe even be a little proud of himself for teaching him. A warm, long, wave of lust runs through him as he begins the next lesson. Together, their hands intertwined, hot hands stroking, caressing, teasing Jay’s cock and after a while it’s hard to tell who’s the teacher and who’s the student. And it’s not too long before Jason’s hands on Robbie’s are pretty, but pretty useless. They work him in unison, letting out moans of pleasure and words of concupiscence, too dirty to speak out too loud but too urgent to keep inside, until Jason comes, with one last sweet hiss, creating a mess on Rob’s discarded clothes and the expensive hotel carpet, something he will start fretting about soon enough, but surely not now. For now Robbie holds him tight, so he can enjoy the feeling of bliss and relief and satisfying glory, and not worry his weak knees and the shudders that shake his thin frame might knock him off his feet. Rob rests his chin in the crook of Jason’s neck, mumbling dirty but sweet nothings, and both their hands still tremble madly, but refuse to let go. Jason, feeling Rob’s hard cock in his back, almost expects Rob to command him to bend over, and God knows he would obey now, gladly. But Rob has no such plans it seems, instead turns him around and kisses him eagerly with wet, needy lips.

Jason breaks the kiss, or tries to, muttering “Let’s…we should…take care…of your…”  
Robbie places a finger on Jason’s lips and shakes his head. “Not yet. _You_ fuck _me_ first.” Still breathless, but firm, matter of fact. “That’s what you should’ve done back then, seriously, to shut me up…”  
Now it’s for Jason to shake his head, but Rob stops him by placing his hands on the sides of his face and stroking his thumbs over his cheeks, “…because that’s what I wanted from you, just fuck the crap out of me.”  
Jason’s eyes widen, “I never knew that…you didn’t…I didn’t know that…”  
“I know now, Jay. But back then all I felt was rejection, I felt that’s all I ever got from you.”  
“But, Rob…you were only a confused _kid_. I couldn’t have…but I didn’t mean to…” The finger’s back on Jason’s lips.  
“You won’t reject me tonight, that’s all that counts. Look back, don’t stare, remember?”  
Jason nods and the nod holds a promise. Robbie will get what he wants tonight.

Look back, just don’t stare, because it’s ugly. You can’t change the past, what’s done is done, but it’s never too late to try and start something new, something you’ve missed out on, something you thought you could never have, or you didn’t deserve. And so for one long night they show each other what might have been if they hadn’t been so bloody young and so fucking stupid. There’s room for trust, and faith, and reversed roles, and dare, and awe. There’s challenge, and desire, longing, and satisfaction, and making good for all the misunderstandings, and the foolishness of confused feelings and the foul play of third forces. 

Afterwards there’s no talking. Afterwards there’s a thin layer of sweat on their bodies, and a taste of the other on their lips, and a glorious feeling of bliss. The heart-felt joy that’s reserved for the small moments of perfect happiness, when all is right in the world. Something that is hard to achieve when the sound of thousands screaming your name doesn’t really get you going anymore. They lie close, limbs entwined, closer than Robbie would ever have thought Jason lets anyone ever get, overwhelmed by a feeling of exhaustion and sleepiness that would make each of them jump and run away from this bed, this room, this hotel, for fear of falling asleep in someone’s arms, being vulnerable and unprotected and naked and dizzy. They’ve both been there, countless times, numerous places. They’ve both felt the panic, the impossibility of surrendering to the moment, to just lie there, in a strange bed, next to some nameless stranger, who, once it’s over, scares the hell out of them. But not tonight. Tonight they’re save and protected and happy and free of worry. Together.

Lesson learned.


End file.
